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Sunday, June 30, 2013

Big news people. My oldest friend and cousin in the entire world is getting hitched. Yep. Lil Douglas is growing up. He just so happens to be engaged to an awesome girl. I could not be more excited to get a new girl in the fam. Douglas was my first friend. I'm pretty sure we were meant to be brother and sister. The only person I ever let spend the night was Doug. We've hunted, fished, traveled, fought and anything else. I'm super excited for him and Morgan:)

On Friday, Douglas was playing tennis with Morgan. Uncle Doug, Anne and I were stealthily hiding/stalking them... He had planned for Sage (his black lab) to bring Morgan a tennis ball with the ring in it. I had my doubts. However, Sage pulled through and made the drop. It was pretty awesome.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

I like this lil quote. Mainly because it just makes me feel good. Like hot chocolate on a cold day kind of good. I'm a heart kind of person. (I'm a fan of the other pieces too) (like the mind, spiritual stuff etc). But, I'm partial to the heart. I can be thinking the worst possible thoughts about almost anything (life, love, people, the future) and all could be lost (unfortunately this occurs more often than I'd like), but somewhere, deep down in the depths of me, there is some crazy reassurance that sets me back on course. And that is love. Not lovey dovey love. Heart love. The love. The love that gives you purpose. The love that saved us. The love that inspires you. The love that you can give to other people. It is a super natural love. And you can only get it from one place. When I trust least is when I see it most:)

And maybe this did too..

Here is something that I have been amazed by. I have a friend that (probably without knowing it) has taught me about choosing. I've learned that, most of the time, we can choose to be a certain way. To think a certain way. To feel a certain way. (This does not apply to everything FYI). We can choose to be joyful. We can choose to be loving. We can choose to be ourselves. Most of the time when I veer off course, it is because somewhere along the road I chose it. Boom. Sometimes I want to kick myself.. I literally have to choose Jesus everyday. And keep choosing him. I have to choose to be loving. And keep choosing it. I have to choose joy. And keep choosing it. It can be a lil taxing sometimes... But, Henri Nouwen gives me some inspiration. Maybe you too?

Friday, June 21, 2013

Monday, June 17, 2013

I read an article a couple of months ago that I think about quite often. It has stuck with me because I felt like the author had read my exact thoughts. Lil scary. It was on sacred moments. And so here begins my thoughts:

Sacred moments. We can't have them if we don't create a space for them. I just so happen to be a big fan of sacred moments. My most sacred of moments take place in mostly two places. Sitting around a table or riding in the car. This is important. Listen up. I fully believe we all need a table. This doesn't have to be a real live table. Just a place that you can go. To see one another. To hear one another. And to just be with one another. Amen. I need this. A lot. My table is usually in the car. Some of my best talks are in the car. (I'm kind of stubborn and for some reason the car brings out my real thoughts..) The table is where you share thoughts and stories. The table is where friendships are built. There will be days that bad crap happens. There will be days when people fall apart. When things fall apart. Things that you and I can't fix. All we can do is offer ourselves. Be present. Walk with people through the crap. That's literally all that we can actually do. It's called being present. We can listen. We can pray. We can love. The table is where we build it all. We build up for those days. But, we've built something that is strong. The table is the place where we get put back together.

I love what she says here:

"I want you to stop running from thing to thing to thing, and to sit down at the table, to offer the people you love something humble and nourishing, like soup and bread, like a story, like a hand holding another hand while you pray. We live in a world that values us for how fast we go, for how much we accomplish, for how much life we can pack into one day. But I’m coming to believe it’s in the in-between spaces that our lives change, and that the real beauty lies there."

The table is about time. Being present. Fully present. Not wondering what you have to do next. The table is timeless. It's where we get real. We say how we are. We tell the truth. I have this humongous pet peeve lately. I feel like people have been walking around putting on this show. This show of "life's always awesome.. all the time." Sometimes I just can't take it. I just like for people to be real.

Where I live, at supper, we go around the table and have to give a number between 1 and 10. Plus a little explanation of why you are what you are. It's a tiny way to do a little self accounting. I recently had been dreading it because my numbers have been a little on the low end... But, I'm thankful someone is asking. I'm thankful to get to sit around the table with those friends. I'm thankful that we make time to listen. I also do a lot of thinking slash sharing in the car. One friend knows that. And she will just drive me around Mt. Perfect until I spill whatever I have been storing up... Sometimes it takes several tours around Mt. P until I have the guts to get it all out... Poor friend. I word vomit all over her car... But, alas, that is my table. And I need it.

The table is sacred because it's neutral. We don't have to come to prove something. Or defend something. We come because we are hungry. We need it. It's sacred. It's safe. We stop trying. We can just be. We allow someone else to come in. We allow someone to walk alongside. All day long we are thrown messages that we need to do, do, do. We need to be better, have more, work harder. We are taught that we shouldn't have needs or hurts. The table negates all of that. We allow someone else to see our humanness. Our insecurities. Our weaknesses. They also get to see all the good parts. They get to see our strengths. Our passion. Our true hearts. Time at the table is so important. (At least to me)

She closes with this:

"If the home is a body, the table is the heart, the beating center, the sustainer of life and health. Come to the table."
My prayer is that each of you have a table. A place to go. People to share life with.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Sold out. That's right. All of the tickets to Live Like Rob have been sold. We are going to have a full house for Live Like Rob. Pretty freaking awesome. As I sit here tonight, listening to some Slightly Stoopid in honor of our boy, half of me wants to just sit here and cry, while the other half wants to jump for joy. I am really just in utter shock. I'm so excited for July 26th. I am so proud of the hard work that our team has done. I don't even know how to describe it. I think I've got an exorbitant amount of pride right now. The good kind. The kind that makes you want to go tell every single person that has a heartbeat just how excited you are. Or just tackle them... The kind that makes you feel like you are doing something. Something important. Something to be proud of. Something that might actually even do a little healing (for us and hopefully those with CF). I feel like we have been given such a cool opportunity. I am just so excited to see what comes out of this. I can't even put it into words.

Here is what I can put into words. Obviously as our event gets closer, Rob has been on my heart constantly. It's really quite crazy how this all works. One day when I think of him, its so good. Usually super pumped about the party. Or just overwhelmed with the support we have gotten from everybody. (PS- it's not too late to sponsor or donate a silent auction item:) On the other days I just flat out miss him. I could most likely cry at any moment if someone catches me at an off moment. Today I heard a hilarious joke and went to text it to him and it hit me all over again. A man in my class today was cutting his nails (gross I know), but it reminded me of him because he once did that all over my car and I thought I was going to kill him. Pretty standard. Just tonight as I was driving home, a truck raced around me on Mathis Ferry- a crazy driver with a lead foot. Obviously he was not as good of a crazy driver as Rob.. But it hit me all over gain. So many things remind me of him in a daily basis. I love it and I hate it at the same time. But, I am so thankful for it. Thankful that I think of him often. Thankful that he was here. Thankful that there will never be another person like him. Thankful to have been lucky enough to know him. And so very thankful to get to be with a whole group of people that loved him so and want to honor him. Gah I miss him and his wisecracks. That laugh. Even the cough. I wish I had gotten to spend more time with him. But, I'm thankful for the time that I did get. For the hours spent throwing Mike N Ike's in Margaret's light fixture. Or playing some HALO. All of the car rides. And everything. All of the minutes and the memories- they are precious. And they make me thankful. It's still hard. I'm still sad. I'm even a little pissed. But, there is something that keeps pointing me back. Pointing me back to being hopeful. To being ok. And to being Thankful. For that, I am forever grateful.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

I knew things were a little off today. Mostly because I had to wake up a few alarms earlier than normal. Any who, we got to walking about 7:05 am. Everyday I think waking up will be easier, but that's a lie. I'm still tired over here... We powered it on up the bridge at my normal, but sluggish pace. I keep hoping that one day my legs will just start running up the bridge, but alas, I am still waiting. I think today I was even more silent on the incline than before... Luckily my walking pal is mostly good with the awkward silence. Today was more interesting than normal. We did not see cute biker man. We did see close walker lady. This lady is super intense and it a bit intimidating. She is a close walker. As in, moves maybe one centimeter to get out of your way. Pretty sure her sweaty arm brushed my sweaty arm. You get the picture. Ug. On the way down, my walking buddy (who shall remain nameless) decided she was going to hold her ground. Basically she played chicken with the uber intense older couple. The lady was wearing a sports bra(she was a little past her prime..) and hauling weights. With an older husband. I nervously shuffled from side to side and then realized my friend wasn't budging. Neither was ol Jeff Gordon woman. I had already pictured them colliding. Drama on the bridge... I saw a little grin on my friends face and realized she was serious. Not giving up the inside lane. Finally after I had already slid into the treacherous biker lane, the bra and weights moved over and gave in. A small victory for my friend.... Then a ruffled running skirt blew by us. You know my thoughts on that situation.

Now to the crash and burn part of our day. We get to the bottom. Praise God. I soaked my face in the water fountain. We were walking down the side walk right at the bottom of the bridge. And then I saw them. It felt like slow motion. There were four. They were matching in an un matching way if that makes sense? Colored shirts, dark shorts. One was wearing a running dress. And they were all holding a water bottle. Like a lil gang. So, naturally, I had begun to make fun of them. Just as I was about to lay a verbal smack down (behind their backs of course), I felt my foot drastically roll left. And then I knew. In one split second, I went down. Hard. On the concrete. My poor friend. Here she is strolling down the sidewalk and down goes her buddy. Smacking the pavement. I'd like to say she knocked me down. But, much to my disdain it was all my own skills. I hit the deck. Basically I got my ass kicked by the sidewalk. On the side of the bridge. It her like a biatch. But, I was stuck in between the laugh slash cry stage. So I just laid there. Told her to leave me behind. Save yourself while you can... She tried to help, but I was damaged. Slightly physically (Bloody knee and arm), but most importantly- I was emotionally mutilated. My pride took the worst hit. Some poor old man walked right on by while I was just lying there on the ground. My first bridge wipe out. And I wasn't even running. I was walking. After we were done. Very cool... I have to give my friend credit, she did not even laugh. Well, maybe a little. I sure as hell would have. So there you have it. I crashed. And I burned.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Well, week 1 is in the books. I'm kind of looking forward to this little "I hate running" series. Fret not. I have not had a miraculous change of heart. I still hate running, even though I have come nowhere near actually running. But, we have gone 8 days of exercise. Excluding yesterday. Yesterday was one of the best days of my life. I literally sat in the most comfortable chair overlooking the harbor. For about 10 hours. Reading Bossypants. Sorry I'm not sorry. I was focusing on exercising the mind. Very important. Any who. Today we are talking about inspiration. I'm a little nervous since my last post in which I declared that I maybe wanted to do a sprint triathlon. (I'd like to pause a moment and thank you people who have given me great feedback. much appreciated) I don't want the public to get too carried away here. I was just setting some goals. But, the goals have definitely inspired me. So here we are. I was walking down the bridge (thank God) this morning and about 1 jabillion thoughts were racing through my mind. One of which was Rob. I'm pretty certain the big man upstairs has been slapping me in the face with obvious inspiration. So this morning, I thought- I clearly need inspiration/motivation. Why not, use Rob? He is in my thoughts and on my heart daily. What if I did something to honor him? He didn't have a choice. I do. Pretty simple. So there you have it. Every morning when my alarm clock slaps me in the face, I'm not going to lie there and curse the day. Nope. Not anymore. I'm going to think of him. And I'm going to get out of bed on the first alarm. Not the fifth. It's only been 8 days and I feel better already. I'm still slow, and sweaty and complainy, but every day I'm glad I did it. And that is enough. And now when I'm sweating my arse off, I will think of my boy. One, because he used to make fun of me and my ability to sweat like none other. Two, because I love him. And that encourages me everyday. See you out there.

Friday, June 7, 2013

There. I said it. I hate running. I loathe running. I abhor running. Running makes me want to die. Running conjures up in me, words that I never knew existed. Plus, I am slow. Always have been. Because I hate running, I'm naturally inclined to hate the 13.1 or 26.2 stickers I see EVERYDAY on EVERY single car in Mt. Pleasant. And I'm like a sweat box. (TMI, sorry). I walk outside, I sweat. Guaranteed. But, the tides are turning. Last week, after what felt like I was drowning after swimming only 12 laps, I decided it was time to up the game. Up the game in many arenas, but working out for sure. Luckily I have a friend who is willing to walk up the bridge in silence with me (because I can't seem to breathe while on the uphill..) So that has been more than encouraging. She says I'm encouraging her, but I call reverse psycology on that one. But, I'll take it. I also realized that I had 100% convinced myself that it would be so completely horrific and not fun to ever exercise with another person. That's why I never wanted people to come on the bridge walks. I confess, I was wrong. It is not horrible. One can survive. I actually enjoy it. Except for when I feel slow (which is often) or I'm sweating like I have just done 23 hours of hot yoga. Or when I can't mumble a word up the bridge because every breathe counts and I could die at any moment an maybe they think I have gone mute... Or when I see all the cutesy people trotting freely down the bridge in their cool workout clothes.... Oh well. I was thinking last night, why not set some goals? Why not? I normally would not post this on the Internet highway due to extreme levels of anxiety, but then I got a little excited. Like, what if I actually achieved my goal? Rocket science I tell you. So, my ultimate goal is to maybe do a sprint triathlon in summer 2k14. There. Said it. Whew. Now, who knows if this will ever happen, but I've got something to work on. The sprint doesn't seem as daunting as the big shabang. Except for the word sprint. Ain't nobody got time for that. I also want to the open water swim from Hobcaw to the Yorktown. And maybe conquer my hate of hiking. These are lofty goals I know. But goals nonetheless. Just the fact that I've exercised 7 days in a row is an act of God. Can I get an amen? Plus the whole more exercise, less laziness could be good for the whole open for business situation. Who knows, I'm clearly no expert. So there you have it. Who knows where this will lead, but I'm excited to find out.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

I've been facing a hard reality the last few days. Apparently school is out. Tourons are roaming the town. The beaches are packed. Soft shell crab is on the menu. People don't know what day of the week it is. Roo cups are on the loose. Never have I seen more tweens at the gas station. And I have been sweating a ton. Yep. It's summer. And sadly, I do not have one. This could be the hardest part to adjust to after college. I'm aware this happens to most people. I've decided to do something about it. Last summer, I took to the high way and went on a cross country trip and it was the best 3 weeks of my life. I am going to make a summer. It will be more limited, but Sarah Sass is partaking in summer 2k13. If that means knocking off work early and heading to the beach or in the boat than so be it. Maybe it means dollar mimosas at lunch at Triangle. I'm game for that. Maybe it means more hang out time... Maybe a few spontaneous adventures. Maybe standing knee deep on a flat just praying to see a tail. Or reading books upon books. This summer, Sarah Sass is going to have fun. There are so many things that I want to do. Go to the aquarium, go to the Angel Oak, row, learn to tie a fly, finally hook that red fish on my fly rod, swim 2 miles straight, re watch all of the endless summer movies, stay up late and drink coronitas, take night time boat rides, paint something, learn to play my uke and banjo, find new places, random day trips to who knows where, and hang out with people that I love. Gah, sounds amazing. It is happening. Commencing summer now. Boom. Here we go:)﻿

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

I some how skipped reading The Great Gatsby in high school. Last night I went to the movie. Nobody told me that you would leave feeling depressed. Emotional used. Now, I never want to be in a love triangle... Unless it was between Thor and Tim Riggins.. Just sayin. I was so sad in the end. Plus, poor cousin Nick next door got shafted the entire movie. Last time you see him he is in some mental hospital type place. Poor guy.

I will admit though, that it was a really well made movie. Who knew the people were rocking to Jay Z and Beyonce in Prohibition times... Homeboy Gatsby knew how to throw a party though. I would have liked to partake at one of his get togethers...

Leo redeemed the movie for me though. I have never thought he was that cute. Until he played Gatsby. Dang. It is worth seeing. Just be prepared to feel a bit depressed.

So, here I am. Lying here in the dark, trying to fall asleep. Alas, I cannot. I have the most random of thoughts racing through my mind from many conversations of the day. I also just saw The Great Gatsby. I never read the book. Talk about depressing. I can't even get into what I really think (the rain man thoughts would likely run you off). Unfortunately, when my mind gets to racing, it goes for a while. I started thinking about the last few months and all that has entailed. I feel like they have lasted forever, yet they have gone by so fast (how does that work?) I opened my computer and the first thing that came on spotify was Mumford and Sons. Actually the next four songs were Mumford and Sons. That sucker was on shuffle too. I hate to admit this, but then I just kind of started tearing up. I'm aware this is weird. Or a little sad... But, anytime I hear Mumford & Sons, I immediately think of Rob. When I found out my friend passed away, I literally did not know what to do. Time stopped. I found myself plastered to a couch with no chance of moving. My brain was just fried. Luckily, my friend found a Mumford & Sons concert on tv. And there we sat. Just watching it. I think I had snot caked on my face and what not (You are welcome for the visual) I liked them before, but they got me on this day. I LOVE music anyways, but every word hit me. It was the most therapeutic two hours of my life.. Now every single time I hear Marcus Mumford, I think of Rob. I think of who he was. I think of the fun I got to have with him. It makes me miss him. Dearly. It makes me think of all of the things that I want to tell him. But, I can't. It makes me sad yet hopeful at the same time. Tonight I came across this:
I like these words. I like that they are not just rhyming words. They mean something. They are a reminder to me. Of my friend. For a really long time I thought that as the days advanced it would just naturally be easier. That it wouldn't seem as bad. It's not quite how I imagined it. It definitely has not been easier, but it has been different. My life has in fact been different than before. I've uncovered and gotten familiar with some weaknesses. But, I've also become hopeful. I've been challenged. I've been loved and encouraged.

Rob has encouraged me to figure out where to invest. What's important? Where can I love? Where can I be loved? What kind of legacy do I want to invest in? I've come to understand that it's about relationship. We are called to be in relationships with one another. We are called to love each other. Invest our love. Invest our lives. What if that's what we did? I hope you do not think I'm crazy. I'm just kind of fascinated by this.

What if we had no fear? What if we just had grace in our hearts? What if we loved with no fear? What if we stepped into who God calls us to be and do what God calls us to do?

Don't get me wrong. I still have questions. I just don't know how to ask them. Or who to ask. I still have doubts. But, like I've said before, I still have this hope. This hope that doesn't seem to leave. This hope that, deep down, makes it all ok. It's late and I'm tired. Not sure this all makes sense, but here you go anyways...